History Class
by Oreocooky
Summary: So, this is my role-played account of Prussia's past/history. No, it's not what actually happened in the manga or whatever idea you have, it's an original idea for the Prussian. So, enjoy!


**A/N: Heyo! For those of you reading my other stories, this is why they haven't received an update yet. I got an idea and was like 'I have to type this!', but I'm generally a busy person so this short thing took a while to type. XD**

**Anyway, I am fully aware that this is nothing like what you all may have in mind for our dear Prussian (my favorite character). Sorry about that, but if you want to read this you have to read it with new eyes. You can't read this with the previous ideas of Prussia you already have. I role played this and I don't role play an exact story. Usually, it's often very different from what actually happened.  
>So, don't hate. Just accept it for what it is; a good story. Well, this is chapter 1. Enjoy!<strong>

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><p>The beginning of the beginning<br>~~~( ( / /~O~ \ \ ) )~~~

So it all started when he was born, as any good story ought to. Prussia is a very old country, which is why most people don't know about him because he died at the peak of his prime, in a way uncharacteristic to his personality. Although, he didn't quite die.

But that's ahead of our time right now. As I stated, the best place to start is the beginning. Prussia lived a very long time ago; a time when there wasn't modern technology or medicine, no indoor heating and air conditioning. The villages were small and sparse, the houses even smaller and the families hard at work and often under-paid. This is the scene I take you to for our dear friend. He was born albino, to a mother who was the town whore. His father had left the day he found his partner to be pregnant, so the town disgraced the entire family.

Now, remember this is a time before modern medicine. Therefore, nobody knew what albinism was. It was a defect, which was promptly blamed on the parents. Being such a disgraceful bastard, Gilbert was left on a hill to die. Being laid there wrapped in a torn rag, the pore babe cried his eyes out until eventually, he couldn't cry anymore.

A tragic beginning, I know. However, things were barely starting to get bad for him. One of the members of the village -who didn't actually live in the village, but a decent ways outside of it- came across him. He knew who the babe was and knew his family, but pity moved him to take the boy in. Taking the albino in, he raised the albino and worked him nearly to death, this albino being his only family. You couldn't quite call it family, though, for what they had was a symbiotic relationship. Gilbert depended on this man, Gustav, for shelter and a room to stay in. In turn, this man needed Gilbert to do all the house work and farm work. Gustav was an older man who spent most of his nights drinking away what little extra money Gilbert could get his hands on.

Now, Gustav never abused the small Prussian, that wasn't the case at all. He wasn't exactly nice, though. Quite the opposite. Gustav was nasty when it came to talking to him. He never let the Prussian forget what Gustav did for him. "You would have died." He would say. "You're damn lucky I came across you, you ungrateful bastard. I didn't have to save you. Do you know what I hear from people in town because I didn't let you die? The looks I get? You're just a disgrace to every damn family or person you walk near."

"Then why didn't you let me die?"

"I felt bad for you, but I see that was misplaced. You can't even work in the fields the entire day through because 'the sun hurts your eyes'! You're pathetic! What type of boy doesn't know how to pull his own in the field work?"

"Then why don't you kick me out?" This was when Prussia would receive a prompt smack across the face for speaking out. After all, one never disrespected their father and mother, or whatever was close to it in this case.

Often, the smack would leave the Prussian sitting on the ground, plain pissed or near tears. Never did he cry, or at least he never let his guardian see it. That was too much a sign of weakness, and he didn't want to see how Gustav would use that. The idea did not strike him as pleasant, so he held his ground and every time this happened it ended the same: Gilbert would be sent to bed without dinner or sent out to work the night through, again, without dinner.

He began to expect it, though. He had no idea how to hold his tongue against such a vile man. One day, though, it ended differently. Gustav called the Prussian boy worthless again and that nine-year-old just snapped. "Well if I'm so worthless, why don't you kick me out?" He asked once again.

"I pitied-"

"You keep saying that, dammit! But I can handle myself! I do more work here than you've done in your entire life!"

"You ungracious bastard! That's why your father left! He must have known you would be trouble! Too much trouble to stay around for!"

Gilbert released the bottle of beer he'd been holding in his hand, the one he'd been asked to fetch for Gustav. It shattered across the floor, the liquid splashing and spreading, the dirt soaking it up as if it had been deprived.

Gustav smacked Gilbert, who fell, his hand being cut by the shattered glass on the dirt. "Ow! Dammit-"

"Go to your room this instant!" And that was it. Gilbert looked up into the eyes of the man before him and knew he would have no issue outrunning him.

So that's what he did. He slowly got to his feet and, once up, bolted for the door. He got outside and ran, his eyes squinting against the setting sun before him. He ran and ran until he was out of breath, and then he continued running. He had easily outrun Gustav long ago. Eventually, his legs gave out from under him and he collapsed in the tall grass, tears brimming in his eyes.

And that is the beginning of the beginning for our dear Prussian, off on his own again. Once in a sitting position, he fell forward, allowing his face to be buried in the tall grass in an effort to shield his eyes from the sun. Once laying, he screamed into the ground. He screamed, and tears fell, but the poor boy did not cry. He laid there until eventually, from exhaustion, he fell asleep, fatigued from the years of labor and abuse.

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><p><strong>AN: As always, please rate and review. I love hearing from you all so much!**


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